


spaces between us

by fruectose



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, this is just a bunch of smaller drabbles i've written aha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 10:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30138414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruectose/pseuds/fruectose
Summary: these are just all the little drabbles from my tumblr that i wrote and have nowhere to put so I'm putting them here <3
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 11
Kudos: 66





	1. the sea is alive

It’s difficult to imagine the sea as anything but alive.

Annabeth sits on the edge of the deck boat and dangles her legs off the side, watching the brilliant blue water dance around her feet. The boat rocks mellifluously to the rhythm of the waves and a gentle breeze blows in her hair. The sun shines brightly overhead, its light reflecting off of the sea and its warmth wrapping snugly around her. The world has never felt more radiant.

Next to her, Percy is in his swim trunks and splayed out and fast asleep, a baseball cap resting over his face to shield his eyes from the sun. She wonders if she should wake him- there’s _no way_ the deck isn’t burning his back- but she sees his chest the long, deep breaths and the relaxed muscles and she can’t bring herself to disturb him quite yet.

She looks at him, a lanky, headless mass of muscles and tan skin and long limbs, and her heart twist painfully. There was a time he was unimpressive; when he was shorter than her and awkward and his arms and legs weren’t quite sure what to do with themselves. A time when lying out in the open, half-naked and completely vulnerable would have been his worst nightmare.

He’s different now. He doesn’t shrink away from attention so much as roll his eyes at it. His body in unapologetic when he demands space- so much so that his foot has been digging into Annabeth’s butt for the last twenty minutes and he’s not even tried to readjust. His breathing is even and his sword-pen is on the other end of the boat and completely out of his reach and his fingers don’t twitch once towards it. It’s Percy Jackson, she thinks. At his barest.

For better or for worse, Annabeth’s boyfriend is a hero- in every sense of the word. He’s saved his family and his friends and strangers and the world and then some of his enemies, too. Annabeth guesses it’s taken more from him than he’s ever been capable of giving, but she can’t stop him just as she can’t stop the current in the water under her. So instead Annabeth makes her peace with celebrating what little the life of a hero _does_ afford him- a morsel of confidence, a smidgeon of self-esteem and a wisp of obduracy.

It’s a nice look.

Then again, Annabeth watches his belly rise and fall steadily, watches the droplets that sit on the muscles of his stomach glisten in the sun and she thinks there’s not much that isn’t a nice look on him.

She reaches over his body and knocks off the cap and stares in wonder as his face contorts into a frown in reaction to the bright light. His thick, dark brows draw together and his full lips pull down into a scowl when he lets out a frustrated grunt and squints up at her.

“What?” He grumbles, pushing himself off the deck and onto his elbows before glowering out at the beautiful, calm waters that stretch out for miles ahead of them. He pulls his feet out from under her legs and sidles up to her, setting his head in her lap and closing his eyes again.

“You’ve been asleep for ages.” Annabeth thinks she should be given an award for still finding something to complain about, no matter how half-hearted, at a moment like this. She leans over the railing until she’s sure her shadow falls over his eyes. She feels him smile into her hipbone.

Percy’s hand comes up from seemingly nowhere and wraps gently around her wrist. She stares at his long, graceful fingers and short, misshapen fingernails, bitten, burned and cut off in one battle or another and he guides her palm to his head. She’s reminded a little bit of her dog growing up, who’d knock his head against her elbow until she gave in and scratched him behind the ear. Annabeth’s never been good at saying no. She indulges Percy, too, because she knows he doesn’t get moments like these often. She curls her fingers into his hair and draws soft circles along his scalp with her nails and she hears a content sigh.

“Feels good.” He murmurs into her skin, pressing a kiss to her thigh where his face is.

It does, Annabeth thinks. It feels good to be here, on a deck boat in the middle of the sea with her favorite person in the world curled up in her lap. She studies his face- his sharp nose and his stubbled jaw and his wide forehead- a face she’s seen so many times and in so many ways, and marvels at the beauty of it all.

Not just of Percy- although he does add his own charm- but of this moment in time. Of Percy’s skin in the sun and of his breath on her hip and of the cool metal of the railing against her skin and of the swaying of the boat. Annabeth thinks it again- the sea has never felt more alive; a breathing, thinking entity that’s lulling her tenderly to sleep. If she closes her eyes, she might hear the water hum her a cradlesong, a promise to keep her and her heart safe for as long as they are in its reach.

Her boyfriend’s pulse beats steadily against her skin and she thinks it for the third time. _The sea lives_.

Beyond all expectations, despite every stupid prophecy and monster and god and mortal, the sea lives. And he lives like this, in her arms, on her legs, his hand on her knee and her fingers in his hair. He lives like this, with love and warmth and kindness and a hero complex the size of Texas.

The sea has existed for centuries before Annabeth, and it will live on for eons after. It’s a miracle, she thinks, that she _is_ at the same time that the sea is alive.

There will be storms to weather and blue waters will turn grey and the waves that lap at the shore now will crash instead, just as so many times before, but Annabeth has never worried about getting wet. Even the roughest of waters and bravest of fighters need moments like these- quiet, still, safe.

“I love you.”

She whispers it to Percy- very specifically to Percy and not to the water around them- because it’s a secret. It’s their secret, something for Annabeth and Percy alone. The sea might be full of life like Percy is but Percy Jackson is more than just the sea. He is the sea and the mountains and the stars and he is _hers_.

And she loves him.

Annabeth leans down and presses a kiss to Percy’s temple, her hair falling over his ear, his head, his neck- and she feels him stir. The muscles on his arms tighten ever so slightly and he blinks up at her. There’s a second, then, that Annabeth catches his eye and his lips tug up and her breath hitches and he lets out a soft, easy chuckle- it’s a flash of a moment, a blink of an eye, but her brain captures it so vividly and locks it away in her mind. She doesn’t know why it’s significant, doesn’t really understand what’s so special about this memory- but she _wants_ it. She wants this, the harmony, the warmth- _them_ \- forever.

She feels Percy’s hand at the back of her head, his fingers tangling themselves in her hair when he pulls her into a kiss. He tastes like salt and Chapstick and something sweet and unique and he kisses her like _he’s_ the one who got lucky between the two of them and it takes everything she has to stop herself from sobbing.

“Okay.” Percy says when he pulls away and Annabeth rests her forehead against his. “I’m up.”

“Good.” She tells him. “You were getting really boring.”

Percy’s eyes sparkle and her brain is too busy memorizing every freckle on his nose to pay attention to what _that_ means.

“I know something fun we can do.” Percy whispers and sits up, just as the water curls around Annabeth’s ankles. He doesn’t give her half a second to figure out what’s happening so Annabeth is just about able to say,

“Hey-!” before the sea in all its life and glory, reaches up to their boat and drags her smoothly off the deck, under the railings and right into the water. Annabeth swallows a fair amount of saline and her eyes burn underwater as she kicks her way back up to the surface and splutters.

She hears Percy’s laugh before she sees him standing on the edge of the deck. He dives in with far more grace than she imagines her entry had, and she feels his arm wrap around her waist before his head resurfaces. He grins at her- a toothy, naughty smile that reminds her so much of the sixteen year old boy she’d fallen in love with that her chest physically _aches_.

“Don’t come sucking up to me now.” She tells him.

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” Percy says, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Nice try.” Annabeth says, biting his tongue lightly and pushing him away.

“Aw, don’t be like that.” Percy whines and she kicks away from him. “C’mere and give your ol’ guy a smooch.”

“Only if the ol’ guy catches up to me.” Annabeth knows it’s a losing battle but she swims for all she’s worth anyway. She feels the current pick up, and despite her struggles against it, her body gets flung backwards until she slams right into Percy.

“I win.” He grins.

“That is _so_ unfair.” Annabeth whines, but she kisses him anyway.

“ _You’re_ unfair.”

The waves around her are dancing and the current is playful and Percy’s kissing her and she has never felt lighter. For as long as the sea is alive, she will be as she is now- vibrant.


	2. when a man loves a woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this one is kind of inspired by Deep Burn Blue by the most talented, iconic, unique, wonderful @nerdylizj <3 love her the most

There’s a lot of arms involved in the argument. Flung up in the air and reaching out to the other and crossed over chests. She’s got tears in her eyes and he’s too angry to see how much he’s hurting her. He starts to leave and she clings desperately to his arm. It’s predictable, what happens next. He says something to her, something spiteful and biting, and she lets go, stricken, her mouth hanging open as if he’d just slapped her across the face, and he walks away.

Within minutes he’s standing by the bar, laughing with his friends and throwing back his drink. She’s still stood in the dark. She thinks nobody is watching, but they are. She has something about her- arrogance in her shoulders and iron will in her the slant of her nose, certainty in her step and grace in her smile. It’s impossible to peel your eyes off of her. She commands any room she’s in, even when she’s crying in a dim corner at their friends’ wedding reception. Other guests see her, made a fool once more- they’ll notice, and they’ll whisper. There’s a price to pay for shining so bright; not much of her is left in the shadows.

Percy watches, too. Not to gossip, not to roll his eyes and call her a stupid girl, lovestruck and hopeless. He wouldn’t be wrong if he did, but he can’t think those things about her. Not when her heart is breaking, not when his own is falling to pieces. He excuses himself from whatever Clarisse and Travis are talking about and walks up to her.

He pulls off his coat without thinking and hands it over. She accepts it, her gaze on the floor and a thousand lifetimes away, and holds it to her chest. He’s not even sure if she knows what she’s holding. Percy takes it gently back and drapes it around her shoulders. Her bridesmaid’s dress is beautiful and she is even more unearthly in it, but he knows she’s cold. She almost always is. Percy knows because they’ve been best friends since before he can remember. There’s an intimacy that comes with being _friends_ , with growing up together through the worst and best phases of life, with having no reservations, no falsities, no white lies and webs to weave- that she’ll never have with her boyfriend. That they’ll never share with anyone but each other.

He’s standing behind her, smoothening his coat over her neck, and she leans back until she’s pressed up against him, a silent plea for comfort because she knows that people are staring, waiting for her response. His aching heart slams against his ribs, just slightly over her shoulder blade, but it’s her pain that matters more. He’s careful, sliding his arms around her waist and holding her close. He rests his chin on the top of her head and sways them both gently to the music.

She doesn’t say anything, but her breathing steadies slowly under his elbows, and he knows she’s going to be okay. That’s Annabeth Chase, he thinks, chest squeezing painfully. She’ll be okay. No matter what, she’ll be… okay.

And it sucks.

Annabeth has been okay since he met her. She was okay when her mom left, and she was okay when her dad drifted too far away. She was okay when her stepmom didn’t like her, okay when her oldest friend died in a car crash, okay when Luke hurt her the first time, and then the next, and the next. She lets Percy swing her slowly, slides her small hands down his forearms until her fingers find his, and lets him lead her to the mellow tunes of Percy Sledge, and she’s _okay_.

Her smile is electric and her touch is home and she deserves to be happy, he thinks. Annabeth is most clever person alive and she is the worst driver in the world. She is built for extreme greatness, and when she falls, devastating failure. It’s unfair for her to be just _okay_. She should be happy, angry, loved, loathed. A woman as full of life as Annabeth shouldn’t be this- hollow, _overlooked_. It’s insulting.

Percy steps on her foot and she stumbles, but there’s a ghost of a smile on her lips and he can’t even bring himself to apologize. He takes her hand in his, a little bit surer of himself, and spins her around. She lets him, her dress flaying out slightly at the ankles as she does and she pulls herself to him, her chest flush against his now. She rests her head on his shoulder and her breath is cool on his neck. Percy catches Luke’s eye. He’s watching them, his expression neutral except for his twisted lips, and it’s enough for Percy to bring his arm around Annabeth’s back, holding her protectively against him. _One arm_ , he thinks, between Luke and Annabeth. An ocean of space and _one arm_.

He reaches the other out, twirling her hair in his finger. He remembers the exact moment she’d begun to dye it blonde- one year into dating Luke, drooping shoulders, and fresh out of high school. _My hair’s darkening, Percy!_ She’d cried in his bed that whole night. Cried for her blonde hair and cried a little, he thinks, for the brave girl she used to be before she met Luke. The next morning, they went to the drugstore and bought some dye and there she was- blonde hair and a smile that reached her eyes and she’d been okay.

_I love you_ , he thinks to the carefully curled ringlet wrapped around his index _. I love you and everything you stand for_. She is close enough now that her heartbeat is sync with his, close enough that he can almost taste her lip gloss, and Percy misses her. He misses her so much it feels like his bones are about to cave in. He holds her just a little tighter, and she notices, because her hands dig just slightly deeper into his shoulders.

There will be a time, Percy thinks, when the song ends. When he’ll have to let go of her and the scent of lemon will linger on his clothes and she’ll dance with Luke. He’ll break her heart again and Percy… Percy will mend it, replacing the parts Luke has taken with pieces of his own. He looks down at her, her eyes closed and fresh tears on her rosy cheeks. His whole heart is hers, if she wants it.

“Why do you love him?” He asks into her ear.

“Why do you love me?”

Percy wants to tell her. He wants to tell her that she is the moon and he, the tides in an ocean. He is unrestrained, unpredictable; except for the only truth he knows- at the end of the day, he will gravitate towards her. In a life of chaos, there is one unfaltering, irrefutable fact: Percy Jackson will always reach out for Annabeth Chase.

“Because you deserve it.” He says instead. She lets out a shaky breath and pulls away. His shoulder is cold where her head lay. Even through the hair that falls into her face, he sees a profound hurt in her eyes.

“So do you.” She tells him, and it might feel like a break up if her hands weren’t slowly moving from his shoulders, up the sides of his neck until they rest on either cheek. She searches his face and they’re only twenty-four. Young and silly and not deserving of this kind of misery. She ages a hundred years when she smiles and Percy’s throat runs dry.

“Would you?” He is timid but the song is short and his time with her is limited. “Love me?”

She cranes her neck and gets to her tiptoes, still not quite tall enough to reach his forehead. Percy ducks and lets her press her lips to his hairline.

“I already do.” She whispers. It’s the first time he hears it from her, but something in his heart shifts with the realization that he’s already known. That his frustration doesn’t come from Annabeth not loving him at all- that the most heartbreaking thing is she insists on loving Luke, too. It’s almost ironic, he thinks, that a woman who’s received so little love in her life is capable of feeling it so deeply.

“It’s you, then.” He tells her. “It’s you that you don’t love.”

She doesn’t answer immediately, and he’s right, but he doesn’t feel any pride in figuring that out. How could she love herself? She’d never known anybody who did. Not her father, not her mother, not her boyfriend. Only her best friend, who is only bold enough to love her so deeply in secret.

“I can’t do that to him.” She says quietly, and as much as Percy hates it, he knows where she’s coming from.

Luke is like her. A mother too ill to care for him, a father who never accepted him, a best friend who betrayed him. Like Annabeth, Luke is alone in the world. It’s a miracle they found each other. Without Luke, she has Percy. Without her, Luke has nobody.

Percy is empty. He has never felt so raw, so exposed. He looks up at the new Mr. and Mrs. Beckendorf, dancing with their hands clasped together. They exist in a bubble of their own. Percy wonders if that’s what he and Annabeth look like. Unaware of the world around them.

Annabeth has dreamed of a family of her own for as long as he’s known her. Luke will never give her that, all three of them know it. There’s no white dresses and hydrangea bouquets and a _Mrs. Castellan_ in her future. She’s given up- on Luke, on Percy, on herself, and it’s too painful to watch, but he’s stuck- in some awkward bubble of his own, with Annabeth and Luke and a whole lot of confusion and hurt. The best thing to do now is to break out- to find someone new, someone more open to his love. But there is nobody, nobody in the world without Annabeth, and that’s Percy’s curse.

“I wish I was braver.” She says finally. The song is on its last few notes. The voice is fading out and before Percy can tell her she can be braver, that she always has been- it’s over.

The spell is broken, their bubble popped. Her hands slip away from his face and he catches them in his hands.

“Annabeth-” He tries to find the words to say. Her palms are already sliding away until it’s only their fingers. Her eyes are rimmed red.

“I’m sorry.” She says throatily. Only three fingers.

“Please.” He begs. One finger. She’s slipping out of his grasp and there’s nothing he can do.

He expects something from her. Anything. Then her hands are free and she’s walking straight to Luke, his coat still sitting delicately on her shoulders, and she doesn’t look back once.


	3. girl crush

It wasn’t that Rachel was _jealous_ , per se. She was just… sad.

The music playing over the party was slow, hopeful, romantic. Almost everyone Rachel knew was in attendance- the Stoll brothers, Nico di Angelo, Chiron. Even Mr. D had decided to make an appearance. It was, after all, the party of the century.

Annabeth, who’d planned most of it, had done a spectacular job- as was expected. There was a massive tent pitched just down the beach from the make-shift aisle they’d set up. Everything was beautiful- fairy lights and bouquets of flowers, from pink lilies to blue hydrangeas were hung up around the tent. She must have had some help from Poseidon, because the walls around the tent were made entirely of flowing water that sparkled as it reflected off the lights. The evening was cool and breezy and happy and truly wonderful, and selfishly, Rachel couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for herself. She sat down on one of the white chairs with a massive blue ribbon around it and watched the other guests.

Clarisse la Rue was sipping her champagne, her hand in Chris Rodriguez’s as he laughed about something with Will Solace. Piper McLean was dancing with Magnus Chase and Hazel Levesque hugged Sally Jackson in greeting. Then Rachel’s eyes drifted to the couple of the hour, her heart twisting painfully at the sight.

Percy Jackson looked handsome as the devil. He wore a blue tuxedo so dark it looked black, and his hair was messy from the breezy ceremony they’d had on the beach. His green eyes shone more than they normally did and he seemed laid-back and relaxed. He held his bride by her waist, and swayed slowly to the music. He had to duck his head slightly as he talked to her in a low voice, but he was grinning from ear to ear the whole time. Rachel caught him sliding one hand down her back, only to be caught and smacked lightly on the shoulder. He laughed out loud- a sound that, to Rachel, echoed in the room. He was so _happy_ with her.

Annabeth was beautiful. Her long, blonde hair was combed into a mid-pony, leaving some waves out so they framed her face. Her veil shimmered silver as she swayed slowly to the music. She looked like pure magic, in a white lacy gown with a low neckline and a skirt that fell elegantly to the floor around her. She had one hand resting on her husband’s chest and was laughing at something Percy had said to her, glancing over her shoulder in the direction of where Athena was talking to Aphrodite.

Rachel had seen them do this so many times before- escape into a world of their own. Percy and Annabeth; Annabeth and Percy. An entire world for them, visitors were _not_ welcome.

Rachel felt a pang thinking about it. She watched Annabeth. _It could have been her_ , she thought, a little miserably.

Rachel Elizabeth Dare could have been the one marrying Percy Jackson. It could have been _her_ , looking at him like he held her sun, her moon and her Earth. It could have been her he was laughing with- that low, husky chuckle that he saved for when he was laughing with her. It could have been her he would call his wife when he introduced her to his friends, her that got to wake up next to him every morning, her that got to take his name.

But it wasn’t. It was Annabeth. It was all Annabeth, like it always had been.

Rachel had a different path to follow. One where she could never experience what Annabeth could. She would never feel Percy’s lips against hers. She would never know which of her perfumes he liked the best. She would never be able to hold his hand and dance at their wedding and laugh at the guests. He would do that with Annabeth, like he’d always wanted.

Rachel caught sight of Nico di Angelo, who was getting up to go dance with his boyfriend. Rachel noticed how he glanced in Percy’s direction, and how he looked at Will again, how his shoulders relaxed and he managed a small smile. He didn’t care about Percy Jackson that way anymore. He wouldn’t be hung up on him- not the way Rachel was.

Even Calypso had come to the wedding, although Rachel wasn’t sure how Annabeth had felt about that. They weren’t exactly on the best of terms. Calypso was sitting in a corner, wearing a pale-yellow dress and trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. Then Leo joined her and she looked instantly less uncomfortable, accepting his drink graciously and offering him a smile. Even she had moved on.

Only Rachel couldn’t. Rachel had to watch, in her eternal maidenhood glory, as one of her closest friends married only boy she’d ever loved, and it kind of _sucked_.

She watched Percy twirl Annabeth, watched him back up and bump into his dad. They exchanged a couple of words, a hug, and then Poseidon took Annabeth’s hand gently. Rachel hadn’t been around as many gods as Percy or Annabeth had, but she was pretty sure the god of the seas was being extra delicate with the bride. Percy stood back, watched them begin their dance- graceful and skilled- before stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking off the floor, straight towards Rachel.

He grinned at her when he caught her eye and plopped clumsily down on the chair beside her. He exhaled really loudly and Rachel had to force herself to peel her eyes off of Annabeth and Poseidon to look at her old friend.

“Can’t believe you’re married.” She said. “It sounds so… surreal. How are you feeling?”

Percy was quiet for a second. He stared in the direction of his wife and father, and Rachel didn’t blame him. Their dance was nothing short of hypnotic. Then Percy shook his head and leaned back, relaxed.

“I feel… the same.” He said. Rachel frowned at him. Not the words you’d want to hear from a groom on his wedding day.

“This is kind of a big deal, you know?” Rachel said with a small smile. “You’ve taken a big step with Annabeth.”

Percy shot her a grin full of secrets and ran his hand through his hair. “It doesn’t feel like it.” He admitted. “I think I committed to this- to her, for eternity- on the night I kissed her, you know? So… marriage just seems like the natural way to go.”

“She’s going to hate that you didn’t have some romantic epiphany tonight.” Rachel warned him, although his words rang through her entire body. He’d basically married Annabeth ten years ago. Rachel never stood a chance.

“Oh, she’ll survive.” Percy said. Rachel never knew how he did it. Annabeth could be high maintenance- gods, could she make Percy’s life difficult when she wanted to. And Percy, for his part, just refused to participate. How they made it work was beyond Rachel.

“I do love her, you know.” Percy said after a long pause. “I just don’t think I need to have some massive wedding to prove it.”

“Okay.” Rachel said.

“And I never got to apologize to you for it.” He said. He looked up to meet her eyes, and for a split second, the air was knocked out of Rachel.

“Apologize for what?” She asked him.

“It’s only a decade late.” Percy said, laughing to himself. “But I’m sorry for wasting your time. You know, before the war.”

“Wasting my time?”

“Come on, Rach. You knew it was always going to end with that- obnoxious, arrogant brat there.” He said nodding towards his wife fondly. “I did too. I guess it was just less scary to pretend I hadn’t fallen so hard for her.”

“Oh my gods, I _knew_ it.” Rachel grinned, despite herself.

“Did you?” Percy asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Yeah, I did, actually. Because at fifteen, you were a _player_ , Percy Jackson.” She laughed, poking him in the shoulder with a finger. “And I _totally_ knew you were into Annabeth.”

“Why’d you kiss me, then?” Percy asked, throwing his head back and laughing. “And I was _not_ a player, what the fuck Rach.”

“Oh, for sure you were.” Rachel snorted. “You were juggling _three_ girls at once!”

“Are you talking about Calypso?” Percy raised his brows. He glanced over at Calypso and a shadow passed over his face. Before Rachel could even figure out what that meant, he grinned. “You just had to bring that up, didn’t you? You’re such an asshole.”

Rachel laughed and Annabeth, seemingly finished with her dance, came up to them. Percy reached his arm out, circling it around her waist and pulling her to his side. He rested his head on her hip and grinned at Rachel.

“Why aren’t you guys dancing?” Annabeth demanded.

“We’re too busy arguing about whether or not Percy was a womanizer back in the day.” Rachel told her. Annabeth rolled her large grey eyes.

“Oh, he was just a teenage Don Juan wasn’t he.” She said fondly, patting her husband’s shoulder once.

“Not you too.” Percy groaned into her.

“What was it, Rach, Calypso, Nico and me? That should be a record somewhere.”

Percy groaned and slid back in his chair, holding Annabeth by the hips and tugging her until she was sitting on his lap.

“It wasn’t my fault.” He complained. “I just happen to look like this,” He gestured to his face. “And I’m funny and clever and just goofy enough to come across as charming. People find me very hard to resist, you know.” He told Annabeth. “You should count yourself lucky. Of all the women I could’ve had, I chose to put up with you.”

Annabeth stuck her tongue out at him and he quickly leaned in to steal a kiss.

“Yeah, _I’m_ the lucky one.” Annabeth grumbled, although her eyes were shining. She was about to say something when someone cut her off.

“Hey, pretty lady. Wanna dance?” Travis- or was it Connor?- Stoll stood over Annabeth and Percy, grinning wickedly. Annabeth narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

“I swear to Hades, Travis, if you’re trying to ruin my wedding in _any_ way at all-” She started but Travis chuckled.

“I just want to dance with my favorite baby camper on her wedding day.” He told her. “Now come on, my offer expires in three… two…”

Annabeth took his hand and looked back at Percy. “See? I’m Travis’ favorite camper. You’re not the only one with admirers, Jackson.”

Travis helped her up and looked in between them. “What’s that now?”

Percy rolled his eyes. “Annabeth’s just grasping at straws. Someone’s jealous I had _four_ people in love with me at once.” He said, throwing one arm around the back of Rachel’s chair and reaching the other one out to pat Annabeth’s hip. Annabeth and Travis exchanged a look.

“You’re confident.” Travis said. “What’s to say I’m not stealing your bride right now? If she runs away with me, swear this is the last you’ll hear from us again. Sending love, Mr. and Mrs. Stoll.”

“You’re a sick man.” Percy told him, and he laughed as they walked off.

Rachel watched Annabeth dancing, and, okay, _fine_ , she’ll admit it. She was a little jealous. Why could it not have been her? Why could she not have been tall, and blonde and adored the way Annabeth was? Rachel would never know what Percy’s lips tasted like. She wished that, just for one day, she could switch places with Annabeth. Just one day, so she could drown herself in Annabeth’s perfume and have Percy’s hands on her body and see the morning sun on his face.

“It really couldn’t have ever been anybody else?” She asked. Percy rolled his eyes and gave her a small, shy smile.

“Not a chance.”


	4. the lone wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this was initially qwritten for my friend simone <3 (@siminiedoodles on instagram please check her out!!) but then she pulled a MASSIVE uno reverse on me and DREW ART so I HAD to attach it to my fic she's so talented and lovely and wonderful if u are reading this please shower her with love!!!!!!!!!

There’s something about all of Camp Half-Blood, gathered around the campfire and singing together like one big, happy family that makes Jason feel lonelier than ever.

He catches sight of Piper, laughing with one of her sisters, her hair catching the light from the flames and her skin lit up in a warm orange glow. Somewhere on the other side, Leo is talking animatedly with Nessa and Jake from the Hephaestus cabin, his eyes sparkling with life and his hands flailing about dramatically with every word he says. They look so at peace, so at home at a camp that, only a month ago, sent them away on a deadly quest with seemingly no help except for one angry faun.

And maybe this is how it usually is, too. Maybe this is what’s normal- as normal as things can be for demigods, at least. Maybe deep, lifelong bonds are formed based on the shared experience of being alive in the same moment. Gods know that’s rare.

Jason doesn’t fit in here.

Blame it on his memories that are starting to come slowly back to him, blame it on his empty cabin, blame it on the fact that none of the senior campers seem to like him at all- but at every turn, he is reminded, over and over again that his stay at CHB is only temporary. Somewhere far away from the peace of Long Island Sound is another camp, a camp that doesn’t feel so much like home, a camp with a girl with long hair and a hesitant smile- a camp where he belongs.

“Oh gods, Jason, shut up.”

He starts and looks over his shoulder. Aside from Piper and Leo and the occasional new, young and very lost camper, almost nobody speaks to him. Even now, he sits alone in the Zeus section of the campfire; no siblings, no cousins. He isn’t even a son of Zeus- even among kids his age, among kids with godly parents and rough childhoods, he sticks out like a sore thumb. Nobody spares him a glance.

“Only if you come over here and make me.”

It’s Jason Kettering who speaks and he realises that nobody has even realised he shares a name with the son of Apollo. He slinks back into himself and plays with his fingers while the other Jason flirts with some son of Demeter.

Whose brilliant idea was it, he wants to ask the skies above him, to name him after one of the greatest Greek heroes of all time?

When he can’t take it any longer- when the laughter is too loud and the comfort of friendship is too suffocating, he gets up and slips into the shadows, doubting very much that anybody would even notice his absence.

Without the campfire, the night is pleasant, a cool breeze blows in his hair and he goes where his legs will take him. He walks past the basketball court and the sword fighting arena, meanders through the archery range and around the lava wall, lost in his own thoughts. He’s alone at Camp right now- there isn’t a soul who isn’t back at the sing along, roasting marshmallows and making fun of their siblings. It gives him the time to think.

And so Jason thinks- he thinks about his quest with Leo and Piper, friends he’d never thought he’d make in his lifetime, thinks about Reyna, only still a memory in the back of his mind that he can’t quite reach just yet, thinks about Juno and the haunting words of the Great Prophecy. He thinks so much, he doesn’t realise he’s by the canoe lake now- and it takes him a moment longer to see that he isn’t alone.

She sits on the edge of the lake, her feet dipped into the water, and her hair catches the moonlight. For the first time since he met her, Jason is not automatically intimidated by her. He clears his throat and watches her shoulders tense for a second before she relaxes. She turns around and takes him in.

“I’m sorry.” Jason says, his voice thick. Of everybody at CHB, he thinks it’s hardest to look at her directly in the eyes. “I’ll go-”

“Not in the mood for a sing along?” Annabeth asks softly. Jason shrugs.

“They just started with Jason and the Agronauts, and… that gets awkward fast.”

She lets out a half-hearted laugh, a favour to him. He’s not particularly funny and she’s not easy to keep entertained. He hesitates for a second, shuffling his feet and unsure whether to offer her a kind word or leave her to it.

“Percy hates when they do the Percy and Medusa one.” She says shakily. “But that’s also because Will and James always modify the words so it’s about him, specifically.”

“Percy fought Medusa?” Jason asks and the corners of Annabeth’s lips lift up. She nods.

“And the Minotaur. And Prokrustes, and Polyphemus.” She rattles off, a fond look on her face. Jason wants to point out that these are Greek monsters that she’s talking about, but he holds back.

Without thinking, he walks up to her and sits down beside her, dipping his legs carefully into the cold water. If misery loves company, what better place was there for him to possibly be?

“He sounds very brave.” Jason says. “I suppose I can see why everyone’s so in awe of him.”

“He’s the bravest hero I know.” Annabeth tells him. “The kindest too.”

Jason feels a lump in his throat. The only reason Annabeth isn’t with her boyfriend right now, singing out of key to age old greek mythology, is _him_. Guilt twists his stomach into a tight knot and he swallows hard.

“I don’t- I never-,” He falters and Annabeth doesn’t look up from the lake. She waits patiently for his apology. “I never meant for this to happen. I- I just woke up one day in the back of a school bus. I don’t know- if you blame me, I understand-”

“I don’t.” Annabeth says quietly. Jason stares at her and she doesn’t look up. “I thought I blamed you- but with Hera, you can never be too sure. She’s just an ungrateful, conniving little bitch-”

Thunder rolls overhead and Jason sits on his own hands to stop himself from slapping them over her mouth to shut her up. He blinks up at the sky. Surely his own father wouldn’t strike him down, would he?

“I’m sure Lady Juno has her reasons.” He says shakily and Annabeth finally meets his eye. She smirks slightly, her eyes dancing with mischief, and Jason feels the sudden urge to scoot as far away from this girl as possible. “They’re going to think you’re impertinent.” He says. Nothing but trouble.

Annabeth’s smirk grows into a delighted smile, as if they’re sharing some inside joke. “Maybe that’s a good thing.”

She doesn’t say anything, only runs her fingers over the surface of the water while Jason focuses on his breathing. Nothing makes sense to him anymore. There is only one thing he understands, and it is this: he has a duty- a duty to Rome, and he is stuck somewhere in the midst of Greek demigods, sitting by the lake and desperate for approval from perhaps the most Greek of them all- and somehow, with no memories and no help, he knows he is failing his people.

His mind drifts back to the one thing he’s refused to talk about, the one person he can’t quite bring himself to think about again. He looks at Annabeth, and there’s no explanation for why he feels so comfortable saying it- maybe it’s the days of built up confusion, maybe it’s the fact that the leader of this camp is here, with him, alone and able to give him all her attention, maybe it’s just that he really needed a friend in a way Piper and Leo can’t be- but the words fall out of his mouth before he can stop himself.

“I met Thalia on the quest.” He blurts out suddenly. “My, uh- my sister.”

Annabeth gives him another small, knowing smile. “Yeah. I know who Thalia is. How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know.” Jason admits. Conflicted? Confused? Desperate for some semblance of normalcy? A little embarrassed? Guilty? He shakes his head. “A lot.”

“I never knew she had a brother.” Annabeth tells him gently, as if that’s supposed to mean something. He doesn’t know how well Thalia and Annabeth knew each other- just that Annabeth mattered enough to his sister to keep a photo of her in their cabin. “I think it’s because it hurt her too much to talk about.”

“She could have looked for me.” Jason tries not to sound bitter. “I know she was only eight, but I was two. She could have- I don’t know. Why’d she leave me?”

“Thalia is one of the bravest demigods I know.” Annabeth tells him. “She’s a lot like Percy, your sister. She wouldn’t leave a man behind if it killed her- trust me, I know.”

“How?”

“She didn’t leave me behind.” Annabeth’s eyes are far away and she doesn’t elaborate. “If she did leave you to fend for yourself, she had an honest, true reason. You have to believe that.”

“She said she couldn't find me.” Jason says. “Maybe she didn’t look hard enough.”

“Or you were truly gone.” Annabeth points out. “You said Lupa raised you. How did you get there?”

“I don’t remember.” Jason says, hot tears starting to burn at his eyes. He swallows them back. He is a Roman praetor, a leader of the legion. He _refuses_ to cry over something so stupid. If Annabeth notices, she’s kind enough to not make a big deal of it.

They settle into another awkward silence. The water isn’t so cold around his leg. He wonders if he has a life like this at Camp Jupiter. Is there a lake, a river, a pond? Is it by the sea, perhaps, or on a mountain? Does he like it there more than he does here?

“Everyone here hates me.” He says and Annabeth doesn’t immediately rush to tell him he’s wrong.

“It takes a second, I think,” She tells him. “To settle into change.”

“So they do.” Jason says miserably. “Is it insane for me to say I still kind of like it here?”

“It’s home. How can you not?” Annabeth nudges him gently on the shoulder. “Besides- I can think of two other reasons you might like it here.”

“Oh?”

“They rhyme with Peo and Liper.” She says and Jason feels a genuine, real smile coming on. Piper and Leo are pretty great, he thinks. Great enough that if he never got his memories back, he wouldn’t be too upset. He looks at Annabeth and his heart sinks to his toes for her. What about Percy, he wonders. Is he sitting with Reyna on the other side of the world, imagining a long, happy, selfish future for himself there? Is he as willing to let go of his home as Jason is? Annabeth focuses her attention once more on the water, her expression hard, and he knows she’s thinking the same thing.

“He’ll come back to you.” Jason says hollowly. How would he know?

“I don’t care.” Annabeth says honestly. “I just want to know he’s alright. I just- I want him to be okay.”

She bursts into tears, then, and it feels like a long time coming. She buries her face in her hands and she sobs like the world is crashing around her. Jason doesn’t quite feel accomplished enough to say anything to her, so he sits beside her and waits for her to let it out. It’s funny what can happen with the passing of time, he thinks. Camp Half Blood can become a place of comfort for Jason. Annabeth can go from terrifying to breaking to pieces in front of him.

“I miss Percy.” She sobs, but Jason isn’t sure she means to be speaking to him. “I miss him- and I think he’s the only one who’d know what to do in this situation.”

It’s a funny thing to hear- _he’d know what to do_. Jason thinks maybe he’s not all that different from Percy Jackson, not really. He imagines Percy is burdened by expectations like he is, imagines that killing a Titan makes Percy the de facto leader, the go-to guy. Everyone at Camp looks to Percy as the legion looked to Jason in moments of trouble.

Jason has the chance now, to step into Percy’s shoes- to help Annabeth, keep her grounded while she worries about her boyfriend. He owes her that- owes her his strength because it is all he has to give, and a soldier is nothing if not giving.

“You’re going to be fine no matter what.” He tells Annabeth, and it’s obvious she’s far past hearing his words. “Annabeth- you’re allowed to cry. You’re allowed to be afraid, and upset, and angry. And I don’t know Percy, but I think he’d agree with me when I say there’s nothing to come from this. We’ll find your boyfriend. _You’ll_ find your boyfriend.”

“I can’t go through this again.” Annabeth says when her sobs dull to heartbroken hiccups. Jason wishes he could cry like she just did- cry until he runs dry of emotions altogether. “I can’t- I can’t keep losing people.”

“You’re telling me.” Jason says flatly and Annabeth’s eyes widen.

“Oh.” She says quietly, just realising who she’s speaking to. “Oh. Jason, I can’t believe I said that- I’m so sorry-”

“It’s okay.” Jason brushes off. “I’m good on my own. Lone wolves, right?”

“Even wolves mate for life.” Annabeth tells him and Jason laughs.

“Did you make that up?”

“Why would I?.” A small smile grows on her lips.

“Why do you know that off the top of your head?”

“I don’t know. I read it somewhere.” Annabeth waves off, but she stops crying and Jason takes it as a win. “You know, lone wolves are excluded from their packs- and it’s usually because there’s only one breeding family. It’s, like, to prevent in-breeding, or whatever.”

“Okay. I didn’t realise I was talking to the Jane Goodall of wolves.” Jason tells her and Annabeth laughs.

“You know, you’re not too bad, Jason.” She tells him. “If you stick around here long enough, I think you’ll be just fine making some friends.”

“So- you think we’re off to a good start?” Jason asks hopefully. Annabeth raises her eyebrow.

“Oh, no. You’ve been sent here as a replacement for my boyfriend.” Annabeth tells him flatly. “But I think maybe the others might be a little more open.”

Jason pulls his feet out of the water and stands up, readjusting his shorts as he does. Annabeth watches him with a forlorn expression and he gets the feeling she’ll sit here for a long while. He gives her one final nod.

“It was nice talking to you, though. Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Annabeth says. “Now go. Don’t keep your friends waiting.”

She nods to something behind him and he turns around to find Piper and Leo standing by the trees- not wanting to interrupt, but obviously having come looking for him. He smiles at Annabeth and runs off to join his friends.

“What were you guys talking about?” Leo asks in a hushed whisper as they make their way out.

“What could you possibly have in common with Annabeth?” Piper demands.

“I’m not sure.” Jason says honestly, and for now- sandwiched between Piper and Leo- he thinks that’s enough.

* * *

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